


the sun will come up; the sun will come up; the sun will come up

by Markey_Bree



Category: ATEEZ (Band), K-pop
Genre: Age Play Little Choi San, Age Regression/De-Aging, Child Abandonment, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Choi San-centric, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Non-Sexual Age Play, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Abuse, Soft Choi San, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:01:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25839250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Markey_Bree/pseuds/Markey_Bree
Summary: I wanted to write a different perspective on csa, and how it affects different people. I've done two or more other stories like this, one about Woozi's Seventeen who copes from csa with age regression, and another perspective with BTS's Yoongi on adult sexual trauma and the affects it has in the midst of the abuse and early aftermath of it. You can see the differences in each story, but each has familiar plots and story lines. This story will have a mix between both stories plus some new coping skills (not all are healthy skills so don't look to this for your own skills please ask a doctor instead! or even me, you can dm me whenever).All my content is very triggering unless said otherwise. Please look for trigger warnings while you read.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Choi San, Choi San/Everyone, Choi San/Jeong Yunho, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Choi San/Kang Yeosang, Choi San/Kim Hongjoong, Choi San/Park Seonghwa, Choi San/Song Mingi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 146





	1. Prologue

**Trigger Warning: Sexual Abuse**

_No one ever taught me what to say to the crisis hotline when they ask what they could do for me._

_No one ever taught me what I'd need after I've been raped._

_No one ever taught me how to give consent, or no one ever taught me how to not give it._

_No one ever taught me how to know I really was raped._

_No one taught me to know what it feels like to be raped._

_No one ever taught me how to feel raped._

_No one taught me what to do if I am raped._

_No one taught me how to tell if my friend is a rapist._

_No one taught me that if my friend is making jokes where he hits me or violates me that I don't have to agree it's funny._

_No one taught me how to react when I'm forced by someone else to keep my own secret._

_No one taught me how to know if I'm ready to have sex._

_No one taught me it's OK if I am._

_No one taught me it's OK if I'm not._

_But they taught me how to use a condom and they made sex fun to talk about and I learned from TV that the only people who ever don't want sex as a teenager are people who are Christian and don't believe in sex before marriage, and those kids eventually have sex, too._

_I learned that the only people who would ever try to have sex with me would be my boyfriend or my crush. Or maybe some obvious creep who's been obsessed for years and I would laugh him off._

_No one taught me that my anger after I'm raped might be misdirected._

_No one taught me how to love myself or even that I should, especially before I let someone see me naked._

_No one taught me how to tell my friend raped me or how to tell my friend he raped me._

_No one taught me how to ask my rapist to use protection._

_No one taught me how to tell my rapist no the next time._

_No one taught me how to stop trusting my friend if he rapes me._

_No one taught me how to stop trusting my rapist if he seems like he's changed back into my friend._

_No one taught me how to not believe my friend's perfect apology or how to tell it isn't true._

_No one taught me how to tell my parents I was raped._

_No one taught me how to tell my friends and family I'm not doing great because I'm realizing I was raped._

_No one taught me how to know it wasn't as simple as I felt like I was raped — no one ever said you shouldn't feel raped if you weren't raped._

_No one taught me how to be self-assured of my rape._

_No one ever told me how to accept my friend who raped me is a rapist._

_No one taught me how to believe I've been lied to for eight years._

_No one taught me how to deal with memories of truths._

_No one told me how hard it was going to be to trust anyone again._

_No one told me that if I tell my friends I can't trust them, they will get mad at me._

_No one taught me what to do if my friends refuse to stop hanging with our other friend, who is now my rapist._

_No one taught me what to do if my parents don't believe me._

_No one._   
  
  
  


Choi San always had a strong duality. His front, what he showed on stage, what he wanted people to see him as: kind, but strong, tough; funny yet composed. He never went too far to seem too much, to come off too strong; he didn't want to be annoying. He just wanted to be perfect, or perfect enough.

His other half, he let slip through the cracks sometimes was much different. He was in fact annoying, and clingy, and childish, and sensitive. He could be too much. A lot of the time. He needed guidance, and someone to hold his hand when he was sad or overwhelmed. Sometimes he needed to be taken care of, cause his body wouldn't allow himself to. He needed help with very simple tasks. He was similar to a child even when he wasn't in the head space of a child. He was very feminine and people didn't like that, his father sure didn't. So San tried to be manly, tried to be tough, but he still cries when he gets scolded. He gets cranky when he's told no. Sometimes it's hard to process other's decisions, why they do the things they do and why everything just can't go smoothly and San's way.

San hates being selfish though, so he never expresses his displeasure unless it's overwhelming. The others, and the staff are very custom to San's moods, his wants he sees as his needs, his small tantrum-like outbursts, but being too sensitive to be yelled at without Jongho and Yunho getting too over protective. He knew he had a prince complex, and he was very used to getting his way. Hongjoong didn't find it suitable to punish San like he punishes the other members. He answers more to time-outs, or no dessert, or being forced to go to bed early. Lectures or just being yelled at was too much for him, and being grounded never worked. The members just accepted that it is what it is, and they adapt as much as they can. Cause San is different, not a bad different, he just been through things that most people wouldn't understand. Even his members couldn't possibly understand but they will always try.

Before Ateez, San's bestfriends were his sisters, just his sisters. They loved him unconditionally, nothing San did was seen as weird to them, and he appreciated that the most. His sisters would never judge him, no matter what. They encouraged him to do what he loved, and if he loved getting dressed up and doing make up then they'll teach him how. San is used to being treated like the baby, since he grew up the baby. He expects that same treatment from his members and fans. But he doesn't expect everyone to be there and hold his hand when he's going through some really difficult moments that he couldn't get anyone to understand. He expects everyone to treat him like he's an innocent kid, but he doesn't expect anyone to be there for him when he's upset, he doesn't expect to have a shoulder to cry on. He's very much used to being his own shoulder, wiping his own tears, being his own support system, so why would he change what he's already used to. It's just easier this way.


	2. time is not healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Childhelp Hotline: 1(800).422.4453
> 
> Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673

**TRIGGER WARNING:** _CSA (Child Sexual Abuse)_

  
  
When I was younger, when the abuse was still fresh. Still new, and I still craved it. I was a very sexual teenager, I've stacked my body count high. I was afraid; I still quite am; that if I took a break from sexual acts, or just sex in general I wouldn't be able to do it anymore. This of course was a ridiculous fear, cause when I get old and marry a woman or hopefully a man, I will trust them enough to see me for more than just my body. Then maybe they can help me see myself as more than just a body. All my friends growing up were abused in some way, we magnetized towards each other and because of that we talked and joked about our abuse like it was normal, in a way I thought it was. I was never friends with someone who hasn't been abused before meeting my fellow members and now brothers of Ateez or then KQ Fellaz. Moving away from Busan felt like I was becoming a new person, so I pushed all the anxiety I had and replaced it with enthusiastic fake excitement. At least at first it was fake but as I lived within only a few square feet with 7 other boys for 6 months before debut, I soon became much closer to them then I intended. My friends I grew up with became just that only friends I grew up with, I cut off most contact, meaning cutting off my last abuser. I ignored every one of their existences, most of them either gotten kicked out, homeless, in jail, or living with their parents working odd jobs and very few struggling to stay in college.

I was no longer a Busan kid, the troubled kid, or the kid the parents didn't want their kids playing with. No parent wanted their kid to friend me, only the parents who weren't present or didn't care. I was okay with that.

But now I had rules, rules my parents never set for me.

We had to be in our dorm before midnight unless we were at practice. During comebacks we weren't allowed to eat certain foods, but the staff and our managers treated us a lot. We couldn't smoke, do any drugs, date, or party. Unless it was our day off, but even then we were pressured to not do drugs, smoke or drink too much. I listened, most of the time. I used to smoke to be cool when I was a teenager but now I just replaced it with drinking only if I craved it. We all signed a contact to not be sexually active while working or on schedules, something we agreed on as trainees. I wasn't sure how I felt about this rule but I didn't think about it much at first because I knew if I really wanted to do something I was just going to do it. I'm good at keeping secrets. We also couldn't be romantically involved with anyone, this was the easiest rule for me. I hate commitment.

My hyper-sexual self got worse while performing, I would do anything the dance instructor asked of me while the others felt a bit uncomfortable. I would easily grind on the floor, hip thrust into the camera, make sexual faces that everyone just saw as sexy. I felt like a sex symbol, even though I knew everyone just saw me as the sexy member with a duality. It made up for not being able to be sexually active, it was just enough pleasure for me. I didn't masturbate or watch porn, I knew porn was created through unconsented content, and I couldn't expose myself to it. I felt like I didn't deserve pleasure coming from myself or anyone on a screen.

Of course no one believed me when I told my members I didn't watch porn, even though off stage I was a completely different person. I didn't have to come out as a little like I read about on the internet after my therapist introduced me. My therapist talked to me about having supportive people around me cause while I'm little I can't be left alone depending on the age I regress to. My therapist explained this to our managers who had two separate meetings with the other members then with the staff. Everyone is just immune to it by now. Usually I didn't regress younger than 5 but at times I would regress to 3 or 4, I don't remember my time regressed at those ages. That's okay because I have finally made it to in an environment that I felt safe in, and I can finally start healing.

Everyone always told me "just give it time".

But time is not healing.

I don't know where they've read that, but it is not about time at all.  
  


" _Hey bambino_ ," **(A/N: I know every culture has cute nicknames for their kids but I couldn't find any in Korean so I'm using Italian nicknames my parents called me growing up).**

"Appa, hi!" It's 6 in the morning, but my dad had a screwed up sense of time, he just assumed when he calls I'll drop everything and answer, even if I'm sleeping, or the ringers off.  
I'm always expected to answer.

 _"How are you my son?_ "

"I'm good, have you talked to Eomma?"

 _"No I haven't talked to her in a while._ "

My parents, though they live close by, are separated and have new partners. My mom married a nice lady that's been around since I was 16, she was kind and had 3 daughters, the youngest 3 years older than me and in her last years of college to become a lawyer. Her other two daughters in their 30s, already married with kids.  
My dad was heart broken when they separated but not because of the marriage, he didn't want to lose her soulmate and best friend. But now he's been with the same man for 4 years, and they'll probably get married and adopt kids. Cause my dad– my dad was born to be a dad. Even though my second oldest sister had kids, and she lived with him, he already had his hands full. He didn't care. He wanted new babies of his own to raise. Cause his babies are grown now, and I'm almost there too.

"We kind of got into it on the phone a couple days ago."

_"Did you? How come?"_

"She just doesn't like boundaries I guess."

_"Well she knows we set boundaries for a reason. For you. She'll get over it."_

My parents though they know there are reasons why we have such strict boundaries, they don't actually know why they are set in place, and what happened to make me need boundaries. Both of them, in their words 'we do not want to know details'. I know that translates into them just not being able to handle what could have possibly happened to me while I was young and vulnerable and somehow they were not there to protect me. That's fair enough for me, I don't want them to ever know what happened, each time or each person, even if it means exposing people they know and care about. I couldn't tear their world a part again. I can't be the reason for it. One of the strictest rule and boundary we have is the fact that I get to be in control of who I am around and who is around me at all times. My parents and their partners can't invite anyone over for family or friend gatherings, before relaying the list by me first. Then I decide there if I will go or not. I don't ever tell them who, even if they know they can't ask me questions like why or what did that person do. I would rather just not show up then let them imagine who ever in their house being in my bed uninvited.

"I know."

" _Don't let it bother you too much, just focus on what you need to do. I'll let you go, love you_."

He doesn't wait for me to say anything back. Most of the time I can't get myself to say anything back anyways.

I sigh, crawling out of bed already being woken up there's no point in trying to sleep more when Mingi or Hongjoong was going to come in and drag me out in the next 10 minutes. Yunho is already up and his bed made. I don't know how he does that. Make his bed every single morning without fail.

"Sannie? You awake?"

I hum a yes, Shiber still clung to my chest. Mingi never calls me hyung, neither does Wooyoung or Jongho. I was okay with that, I didn't see it as a big deal. I also enjoyed everyone thinking I was a baby.

I trudged behind him, I am not a morning person, but would be for my dad.

"It's nice of you to join us San," Hongjoong said in a sort of scolding but soft tone.

Everyone was around the kitchen table except for Yeosang who was making eggs, and Seonghwa who was preparing every one a plate.

"Sorry hyung, my Appa called."

"Oh? Why?" Wooyoung looked hopeful.

He's more excited about my dad getting married again than I am.

"No they haven't planned a wedding yet Wooyoung," I giggled, heading for the coffee machine, but quickly changing directions after getting a look from Seonghwa.

I had 5 energy drinks yesterday and wouldn't go to sleep, there was no way any one would let me have caffeine today. 

I poured a glass of orange juice instead and sat down next to Yunho and Mingi.

I take a sip and I can tell right away that it isn't pulp, and I don't know why but a pain of bitterness that I think may be annoyance or disguised anger comes over me. I don't say anything but I sit there and stare at the juice cause I can't just waste it. But I also can't drink this. I want to cry, a small part of me wants to throw it. I don't do any of those things though I sit back and try to think of an excuse of why I can't drink this glass that I just filled to the brim with disgusting not-pulp orange juice. I could add vodka. But that's not a normal thing people do or is accepted this early. That's the only thing I could think to make this taste better to ignore the non-pulp-ness of the drink.

Yeosang comes sitting across from me while Seonghwa sets down the plate of his fancy looking eggs. I can't eat if I don't have anything to drink it with.

In quick movements I focus on Yunho who's getting up to get his own drink, I focus on Yunho swinging open the fridge door and grabbing the milk and the chocolate syrup, I focus on Yunho because if I focus on my gross juice any longer I will start crying for absolutely no reason.

"Here Sannie," Yunho is sitting down next to me, pulling the filled glass of orange juice away from me and pushing the chocolate milk towards me, along with the syrup bottle.

"We couldn't find pulp at the store I should've said something before you poured all that," Seonghwa adds in and I give him the kindest smile I could muster after being ready to spill over the edge and have a tantrum.

"It's okay hyung." Because it is, everything continues and I can once again breathe normally.

I don't want them to ever think it's their fault. I can't help the way my emotions come out, or how my body reacts to certain things. Weird stuff like non-pulp orange juice makes me feel 4 again when I couldn't make my own decisions and no matter what I said to any one my opinions did not matter. I did not matter. But now I do. And I can finally breathe.


	3. i carry what happened with me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Childhelp Hotline: 1(800).422.4453
> 
> Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673

For someone who was abused a majority of my childhood I sure did have a lot of pictures of me as a child. I have pictures that capture me before the abuse started, I have pictures moments before and moments after. And there is ironically hardly ever a picture that shows I'm not happy, I throw away the ones I'm not smiling in. I like to look at them and imagine happy stories. I like to look at these pictures and imagine getting ice cream after and playing with dolls with my sisters instead of going to sleep and waking up with a strange man in my room. I liked to imagine that none of it ever happened, and my childhood was happy with no flaws or even a pinch of sadness.

I was a cute kid. Me with my cute bangs. Me getting my hair cut by my oldest sister. Me in dresses and heels at 6 years old. Me cutting my dolls hair while my sisters give me a make over and paint my nails. Me at the park. Me in my pajamas. Me at Christmas. Me on the beach. Me in just pants with a backwards hat on, in mid-laughter. 'You were such a cute kid,' everyone would always say, cause I display all these pictures above my bed, on my bedroom walls and on my desk, why wouldn't I want a compliment. I didn't want to hear that I was 'such a cute kid'. I know I was, I had to be. Why else would all those people use me? Why would they toy with me if I was an ugly kid? I curse myself for being a cute kid. Yet instead I always answered them with a smile and say 'thank you', I don't ever add out loud that he thought I was cute too, even though I wanted to so badly. Why didn't anyone ever say 'you look like you were such a happy kid', I wanted to hear those words. I don't want to hear anymore about how I looked or how I look. How small and cute I was. That's what made me easy. And I hate every part of my body when I look at myself as a child. I was just a child. I should have been able to be cute without having to deal with the consequences in society of paying the price for being cute.

There is hardly ever a night that I don't have at least one or two nightmares. Occasionally I do have night terrors but usually it's just very vivid nightmares of the people I love being killed or me being abandoned and raped.

So when I woke up feeling gross and weird I knew it must have been a bad one. I just couldn't remember. Though I feel out of it, I am not sad which is a good sign that perhaps it will be a decent day, maybe even a smooth one. Entering the kitchen the only ones awake is HongJoong, Seonghwa, and Yunho.

"Good morning Hyungs," I greeted as I walked towards the table.

While getting cereal and a bowl out, I stared at the fridge. The fridge displayed ripped out coloring pages I've colored, and crafts of jewel rain drops, and cotton clouds, with string grass, that I was so proud of. Then above my pictures was a chart for my bad days and little days, I got a sticker every time I accomplished something that was particularly hard that day, like getting dressed, making my bed, brushing my teeth, drinking enough water, and eating 3 meals; every sticker was 25 cents that we put in a cute jar I covered with My Little Pony stickers. Once the jar was full I got to pick out a toy at the store, this time I really wanted one of those princess tents that had lights inside.

I got the milk out and poured it into my cereal before sitting down next to Hongjoong.

"You're up awfully early," Yunho commented.

I shrugged, debating on telling them about my intense nightmare I couldn't remember.

Seonghwa is some type of mind reader, "Did you have a nightmare?"

I nodded, glancing up at his concerned face, "I don't remember though."

"Want to talk through it?" HongJoong asks, cause that's what my therapist have taught them.

I started Trauma Therapy not too long ago, and when you start something like that it takes a lot of commitment and a stable support system with who you live with.

I couldn't ever express to them how grateful I was of them and how patient they were with me every step of the way.

"No I don't feel like it."

"You don't feel like it or you don't want to?"

"Both," I state sitting down, already shoving a spoon full of cheerios in my mouth.

I make sure to chew with my mouth closed.

"Well did you make your bed?" Hongjoong questioned, and I knew this was his way of asking if today was a good day.

"No."

Not everyone makes their bed every morning. It does not mean I'm having a bad day.

"Did you brush your teeth?" Yunho added, getting up for another cup of disgusting non-pulp orange juice.

Well no, I didn't. But that was a sure give away that today wasn't a great day, I was already starting it off bumpy.

"Yes," I lied.

Hongjoong studied my face for a few seconds too long. He already knew I was lying, but he gave me a moment to take it back, to correct myself. I didn't.

"San."

I avoided eye contact, focusing on my cereal, I couldn't get myself to take any more bites of so I sat there watching it get soggy.

"San." Hongjoong gave it another try, more stern this time, waiting for me to look up and let him know I was listening.

Seonghwa waited patiently as Hongjoong got more impatient. Yunho stayed out of it, minding his own not wanting to be involved in my scolding.

"Hmm," I finally hummed, acknowledging his presence like I just walked into the room.

"Brushing your teeth is important, it's one of the most important steps for good hygiene," Seonghwa cut in before Hongjoong could lay it out on me.

"I know," I mumble. The cereal doesn't look good anymore. It doesn't taste like the first bite.

"Brush your teeth, make your bed, and wash your bowl out, then I'll put a dollar in the jar," Seonghwa bribed.

I didn't budge though, "I really don't want to Hyung."

"You may not want to but it has to be done."

Jongho and Mingi were entering the kitchen as Seonghwa finished his sentence.

"What has to be done?" (Mingi)

"Brushing your teeth," Yunho said, and that quickly caught both of them up as they spared a side glance my way.

Now I knew everyone was evaluating me.

"So? Sannie deal or no?"

"Either way you have to do it," Hongjoong said, watching me carefully.

"Why?"

"What do you mean why? We do this everyday, nothing is different," Hongjoong laughed, but he was clearly annoyed.

I wait a moment, let his words process, tuning out Yeosang and Wooyoung finally filing into the kitchen. Hongjoong doesn't say anything else. So I get up dump out my bowl, make sure Seonghwa is watching me as I rinse and clean it, putting it on the rack to dry, before retreating to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

I stand there for a few moments after turning on the sink. I let the water run and put my toothbrush through the water, over and over and over and-

"That's not brushing your teeth," Hongjoong's voice appears behind me, it makes me jump, but maybe it was inside, "You're wasting water," I let him turn it off.

He gently takes the toothbrush out of my hand and carefully, slowly puts a dab of toothpaste.

He waits for me to take it, I stare at his hand.

"Do you want me to do it?"

My subconscious makes an exit, I struggle to pull my body back into it's rightful place. All arms and legs in the vehicle at all time, it was like I was on a roller-coaster I was trying to get off of but it already started moving.

"San?"

I pull my body harder, and finally I am on the ground again.

I take the toothbrush, and shove it in my mouth before I can back out.

I'm brushing and every time I close my eyes I'm going through quick sharp flashbacks. I try to keep my eyes open but that hurts more.

"I'll put the dollar in myself and maybe if you don't say anything Seonghwa won't realize," he smiles and I giggle cause that is a genius idea. And there's no way I'll let it slip. All I have to do is make my bed.


	4. tell them i was the warmest place you knew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> why  
> did you leave a door  
> hanging  
> open between my legs  
> were you lazy  
> did you forget  
> or did you purposely leave me unfinished  
> knowing there would be others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Childhelp Hotline: 1(800).422.4453  
> Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673

**TRIGGER WARNING: sex, & past trauma**

The first blown out party I went to, I was 15, I've gone to parties on the Nakdong River, on the beach that hosted fires, and bbq, and ice cream trucks, and other kids playing without their parents near. But it was not like this. It was not teenagers, and young adults stumbling and falling down stairs, chugging beers and shots while playing ping pong and pool, people with half their clothes still now, pizza and red plastic cups covering the floor, music so loud that it echoed in your chest, people making out in the back ground on couches, on the steps, in the kitchen, on the table, by the pool, girls and guys making out with same sex, cause every one was drunk and no one cared as long as the night ended with sex.

I was in no way old enough to be at a party as exclusive as this. But my older sister brought me along so she didn't leave me home alone. I was wearing tight jeans, and fitted shirt, my hair tussled from my nap a hour ago. I'm abandoned by the front door and I'm drowned in loud music and the smell of alcohol and weed.

"San!" A girl, rushing up to me, it's one of my close friends, she's stumbling, using me to stay on her feet, she swing an arm around my waist and pulls me along with her.

She's pushing through masses of people, and so many of them are staring at us. We finally make it out the back door of this massive house, and were met with a little fire pit near the pool, a group of people from my school passing around a bong, inhaling until it's clear exhaling, then coughing. My friend, Jia, pulls me down to sit next to her.

"Remember San? Choi San, he's Sang-mi's, Sang-hee's, and Soo-A's little brother, we're in the same class," Jia word vomits and every single person sitting on the pull-out chairs make a "oh" with their mouth. Before talking over each other to greet me and welcome me. No one's eyes wander off me quickly, they are surprised, I know. They finally have a face to the name.

My name is well known, but no one remembers my face. Except Jia, she was my best friend. I'm not stupid, even though I have never used the school bathrooms during the school day I have ventured in there after school to see the nasty things sketched in black ink on the walls in the boys and girls stalls. I didn't go in there to erase them, or mark them out, Jia and her boyfriend done that several times, but they always reappear. I think they're mostly shocked that I'm a boy, when people search for Choi San in the halls, they don't look for a boy they look for a girl. Because boys have never been written on the walls as 'whore's and 'cunt's before. At least not that I know of.

I was different though, and because my sisters were older and popular and every guy wanted to date them, I had an invisible shield around me to make me untouchable. Sure people would mutter slurs my way, bump me in the hall, occasionally trip me but no one would go out of their way to make it obvious that they disliked me. Cause my sisters were everywhere, and when they weren't everywhere they had eyes everywhere. So if I reported back to my sisters about a guy that was being rude or awful to me that would get them on every one of my sister's black lists. And that's not something any guy wanted. My sisters were the prettiest girls in our school. 

Sang-mi and Sang-hee are twins, both were in their third year of highschool. Soo-A was in her second year and I was in my first.

Sang-mi is ambitious and passionate. She was an art student, hates sports, hates dresses, but loves any idea of art, so make-up was one of her top skills and talents. She wore berets, and cardigans over our school uniforms to feel like she had some sort of control. She is adventurous, and aspires to be her own person 24/7 despite the dress codes, and the school rules. Somehow she either never got caught or found a way to get away with it. Sang-mi is protective, but perhaps just a couple centimeters shorter than me. It didn't matter though cause when we weren't at school she was wearing heels. She hates dresses, but loves jean skirts, it was strange to me but I can't judge, I don't particularly like dresses either. She's the type of girl that wears jean skirts with every sweater, and baggy shirts matching her other skirts, her hair always in a bun, and always practicing being perfect in heels. If she had to run from the cops, I know she wouldn't have to take off her shoes, that's how good she was.

Sang-hee is sort of the opposite of Sang-mi. She can be ambitious but she more has random impulses, she procrastinates, and is sarcastic. She's tough, and boys love that, especially when we were in highschool. She was competitive but wasn't on any teams cause she liked to fight everyone. She's intimidating, and most guys are too scared to approach her, some have even come to me to relay a message to her. She's the girl that wears the boy's dress coded pants instead of the skirt, and refuses to change. I think I've seen her in a dress twice, and in a skirt, never. She listened to rock, and rap, smoked cigarettes when she thought no one was watching. She wears fish-nets, chains on her pants, dark clothes, doesn't own one piece of white clothing and dyes her hair too much. She always has head phones in and always has a resting bitch face. But she's the softest with me. She used to make sure the crust was always cut off my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, she cut up my hot dogs, and let me help her bake and cook when I wasn't supposed to use the stove. She's more of a mom figure to me than anything.

Soo-Ah, is my youngest, older sister, she's also the tallest. She can be sweet, any of them can, but none of them were the really nice sweet girls that let guys walk them to class and hold their books. Soo-Ah was independent, and thrived off being spokes woman for anyone who needed a spokesperson. She was in track, softball, and volley ball. She would invite guys to her games just so she could have her own personal cheer leaders. She's straight-forward and can tell if you're a good person within 10 minutes of meeting you, and you don't even have to say anything. She sticks to the dress code, but wears hoodies over her shirts, her hair is always messy and down, unless she's playing a sport. Outside of school she goes to party in dresses, or tight jeans, or shorts, tank tops, and other exposing clothes to tease the guys. She never drinks too much or smokes too much, she does the perfect amount so she's relaxed, and people look up to her for that. She's book smart, and is always reading on her free time, or volunteering at an animal shelter. She's still in college but I can see her ending up being a stripper just to prove that sex work is a professional job.

And like I said. I was different. I would wear the dress coded skirts to school, which were actually Sang-hee's. I jumped around from choir, to baseball, to art, I didn't exactly know where I belonged yet. But I was consistent in martial arts and dance, so at the very least, I had that. I was softer than my sisters, sensitivity wise. But by the time I was in my third year I've probably slept with more of the guys then the 3 of them combined did. I was okay with that. Though no boy in school wanted to admit it, they knew I was attractive. I knew I was attractive. In school they acted like it was disgusting, and stayed clear of me so I wouldn't pop up in the day dreams during class. A majority of people though, didn't know my face, they would when I passed them in the hall way, maybe I would be in their dreams, but still every time they saw me, it was like they were seeing me for the first time. I loved it.

"Jia, I'm going to go get a drink," she waved but I doubt it went through her mind that I was gone, or that I was even there.

These parties were all the same, and soon, as I grew older they all felt the same. Like one huge party I was constantly at.

"You look young," a guy approaches me, tall, wide shoulders, yet attractive.

"You look old," I laugh, finishing pouring myself a cup of punch that probably had 20 different bottles of hard alcohol in it.

"Touche," he moves around me, observing me, "How old are you? The truth."

His friend laughs, knowing I can't not be a minor.

"19."

"Oh really?" He smiles, not convinced, "you liar."

"What do you want? A birth certificate? I can be 19 and still look young, not all of us are growing grey hairs already, samchon." (Samchon=uncle)

His friend chokes on his drink laughing so hard, it comes out of his nose.

The guy, he laughs too, and I smile, cause I know. He's not going anywhere now.

"You're funny, you know. Why haven't I seen you around before?"

"Not much for parties. I'm just here cause a friend dragged me along."

I'm so smooth with these lies, I almost believe them.

His arm is around my waist, his hand is curled around me, he's directing me out of the kitchen, my cup still in hand. We're down the hall and in a guest room in seconds. He locks the door, and turns to me already unbuckling his belt.

"You're really pretty for a faggot, you know that?" he says, and I know he meant it as a compliment, but I still scoff.

"Funny coming from someone who wants to get laid."

"Sorry I didn't mean it like that," he frowns, then smirks when the smile reappears on my face.

I strip in front of him slowly, making him anticipate my every move. I'm practically thrown onto the bed, pants and boxers pulled down all at once. I focus on a crack in the ceiling as the bed creaks, and rocks underneath us. I listen to his breaths turning into pants, I realize I have to do some work too. I don't want to be accused of being a pillow princess during a one night stand. As I get more into it I have to remind myself that this is a stranger, I don't know his age, I don't even know his name. He's not one of my abusers. Someone switches the circuit breaker in my mind and everything stops moving inside me, inside my head. Wires are being cut somewhere. I am disconnected, offline. Everything fades to this still, calm, quiet, nothingness. I am alive. I did it. I'm okay.

I vaguely aware when it's over.

**Time Skip**

Seventeen and I know exactly how this works, I've gotten good at this. Picking out the right guy, the one that wants to experiment, something to tell their friends, they want something to brag about. Or they just want to disconnect like me. For a little while anywhere, for as long as possible. From themselves mostly, I think. I wouldn't really know what they're doing it for, because it's not like we ever talk about these things. It's not like I really care either.

That's what I was thinking while I laid on this lump futon in the middle of some stranger's living room, feet kicked up, even though I have a skirt on. I'm waiting for someone to pick me out, realize that I am _that boy,_ that boy that will fuck anyone who will fuck him. I couldn't even deny it at this point. There was a time that I wasn't the Choi San they wrote on those walls, but that was a long time ago, out of my reach. Now the old Choi San, 15 year old San, is dead. And I am the current replacement.

I've drank so much that I can feel myself floating upwards, I can no longer feel the futon under me. Someone throws my legs to the side that brings me back to reality, his hand is already up my skirt and I'm laughing. I don't know why, but I am. I push his hand away and grab his hand to lead him upstairs. He's laughing now too.

The room is dim with one lamp turned on, I can't even make out if we're in someone's room or a guest room I tend to lean towards.

I'm under him seconds after the door closes. I don't even know if he locked it, though I could care less. He is so high he stumbles and hits the wall trying to take off his pants. I don't mind, I'm under the influence too. I don't ask him how old he is or let him know I'm still a minor, I let him climb back on top of me after he's completely undressed, he flips my skirt up, my shirt is thrown to the floor, (how did it get there), and underwear bunched up around my ankles.

It's over before I can fully comprehend it was happening. Before I've even fully decided I was going to do it. And now I'm lying here next to a guy, I didn't even look to see what color his eyes are, or if he was taller than me. I don't even remember what he was wearing. I could see him in the store tomorrow and I would be oblivious. I get up, putting my clothes back on as he lights up a blunt or cigarette, I'm not sure.

"Thanks," he mumbles, giving a me big smile.

I roll my eyes, and leave to go find Jia.

Jia drives and we end up at a old diner that's open at 2 in the morning to grab greasy breakfast food and desserts to soak up the alcohol.

"You know maybe you should slow down," she says, and I know what she's referring to.

"Why? It's my body."

"I know. And I'm not judging you. I just want you to be safe. Are you using protection?"

"Yes. Most all guys carry condoms at parties." That's a lie.

"Okay," she's hesitant, "I'm just worried is all. Do they know you're a minor?"

"Yes." Of course not. I wouldn't have such a high body count if they knew that, "I consent so it's not a big deal. It's not like I'm going to sue them."

"That's true, I guess," she slides over the sundae that comes out, the waitress taking our plates.

"Besides I like older guys."

"Who's the oldest you've slept with," suddenly we're gossiping 12 year olds and I feel young.

Until I shatter that feeling.

"I don't know I don't usually ask their age, or names," I admit, she looks at me surprised, or more shocked, "What-why are you looking at me like that?"

"Sorry. I'm not judging. I'm just surprised you haven't told me before."

"You didn't expect me to live up to my name?"

She hits me, "shut up don't say that about yourself. I just don't want you to keep secrets from me, that's all."

"I don't!" I lie.

Too bad me and Jia aren't friends anymore. I wouldn't lie to her now. 


	5. and then you turned me cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> why are you so unkind to me  
> my body cries
> 
> cause you don't look like them  
> i tell it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Childhelp Hotline: 1(800).422.4453
> 
> Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673

Standing with my shirt off in front of staff and the members while designers are measuring me isn't my ideal Friday. But everyone did it and now it was my turn. Except I was the only one they suggested to take my shirt off for this, just so they can get the tightest fit possible without cutting off any of my blood circulation.

"Is this okay?"

"Yes noona."

"Tell me when it's too tight," Noona says, being careful to not pull at the measuring tape without warning me first.

The staff and stylists are very gentle with me, while they tend to play around with the other members and tease them. They tease me like they would a child, nothing I can take literal cause I tend to take everything out of proportion and get myself hurt over nothing. Everyone's had their experience with my sensitivity, and I understand it's hard to get used to and becomes annoying at times. The only one who hurts my feelings often without knowing is Yeosang. He doesn't see it in the severity that I do, and if I were to express how often this happens I feel like he'll feel a tremendous amount of guilt. In the end both of our feelings would be hurt if I allowed my sensitivity to get in the way every time I took something he's said out of line.

"We don't want it to be so tight that it looks uncomfortable, but we want it to shape your figure enough that we don't have to make it skin tight," Noona explains.

"It'll also be decently see through and have lace, over all I think it'll be comfortable and won't rub your skin at all," another stylist nonna comments.

I nod, grateful for their help, glancing at my members, everyone is on their phones except Hongjoong who is keeping an watchful eye on me.

After finishing outfits, and sizing, we move to the practice room with our instructor. We're going through steps, and counting what we need to work on the most. Every one of us stares at our reflection and at our instructor's to make sure our body is moving correctly, every angle exact to his.

"San center yourself in the middle."

I do, and then before I know it, it's just me and the instructor, he speaks before he puts his hands on my waist, he lets me know before he moves to my legs, showing me how they should be pointed, and where they should be at the end. He counts for me while I go through the steps alone, the others sitting taking a breath, drinking water and watching me.

I watch me too, panting slightly I push myself to continue to go through the steps until I land exactly where and when I'm supposed to. Instead of pushing me, the instructor encourages me, every move I make comes with a praise. He makes sure I know I'm doing good even if I'm getting it wrong. Sometimes I hate how fragile they make myself out to be.

"You look amazing, Sannie," Wooyoung shouts, out of breath but still smiling proudly.

Hongjoong and Yunho give me encouraging smiles. I smile back, giving them a little heart.

We work on my position and dance the most, cause I move my body more than any other member does. I have the flexibility to do so.

He continues on with instructions, slowly bringing in each member individually, moving them to their exact position until all 8 of us are in front of the mirror again, the instructor in front, but this time we are in complete sync with each other. I follow along, focusing on Jongho's body then Mingi's, then Wooyoungs, and Seonghwa's, and Yeosang's, and I have to stop myself, cause I'm rapidly falling into the comparisons. And I ache to have any body but mine. I ache for my body to be wanted again.

"Take 10." Everyone separates, restroom breaks, laying on the floor, and downing bottled water.

I sit where I am and meet my eyes in the mirror.

My relationship with my body is strange and confusing. No one quite understands it, and honestly neither do I. I'm so used to my body being a symbol, that I use it like one a lot. It's hard to see my body more than just an object I can toy with to make people feel things. I enjoy the power it holds, captivating audience to tune in when I perform, moving my body across stage with such flexibility no one can grasp. I get 'ah's and 'aw's and 'oh's and 'wow's and I take in every second as a praise. I thrive off praise. I don't know what would happen if I went on stage and fans booed, and my members didn't cheer. My body would surely shut down, not used to rejection, only used to degradation.

During those moments of self doubt, and hating my body, me and Yunho, sometimes Seonghwa will go into the bathroom and they'll help me name off what I love about myself, and my physical appearance. If I let myself I would fall down this dark hole, my body folding into itself, and I would completely shut down, my energy would leave me and I would just be a pile of skin and bones.

"San?" Hongjoong calls from above me, and I look up at his bright eyes, he pulls something from behind his back. It's the brown Bare Bear, Grizzly, two times the size of shiber but small enough to carry around and cuddle.

My heart grows, I feel warm, I smile so hard my cheek bones hurt, I lift my arms without standing.

Hongjoong sits down next to me, lets me take stuffed Grizzly and hug him tightly even though I'm still all sweaty.

"You were really quiet today," Hongjoong points out, "Yunho and Yeosang went to the toy store but they didn't have Ice Bear, so they got Grizzly instead."

"Why?" I finally speak, keeping my eyes tore away from the mirror, "I mean, thank you, but why? I haven't filled my jar yet."

"I know," Hongjoong tries to keep the smile on his face, I wonder if I'm in trouble.

I wouldn't get gifts if I were in trouble.

"Was today overwhelming?"

I can't help it I have to look back at the mirror now that I'm turned towards Hongjoong. My body looks bigger from the side. I hate it.

"San?"

I look back, "Why?"

"We did a lot today. That's all. I wanted to check up on you, well, we all wanted to but we didn't want to ambush you."

Ambush me?

What did we do today?

My memory is in pieces and scattered everywhere. I can't seem to put anything together.

I don't want to admit that I can't remember the day, usually that's a sign that my mind logged out and I was dissociated.

"It's okay. We don't have to talk about it if you can't remember."

Silence for a moment, no one is speaking.

"Sorry."

"Ahh, San-ah no need for that. Do not apologize when you've done nothing wrong remember?"

That was one of the rules.

"We're proud of you nevertheless okay? Even if you don't know why."

He gets up, pats Grizzly's head and then mine. I follow to gather my stuff so we can all get home.

Mingi picks up his and Jongho's stuff, and Hongjoong picks up mine.

I look between them, Jongho comes up from behind me and scoops me up.

I scream childishly, giggling and my body is slowly becoming fully aware that I am regressing. A part of me, a very small part, fights it. It loses.

"Want me to carry you like this? Or do you want on my back?" the maknae asks, and I know he's asking me but I don't want to be responsible with what I want right now.

So instead I wrap my legs around him, and my arms around his neck while still holding tightly to Grizzly.

"Okay I understand," he chuckles, the massive bear, I'm holding onto by just the paw and I watch as he swings and I lean my head on the maknae's shoulder.

We're going down the front steps towards the car and I whine, knowing I'm losing grip of Grizzly and I don't want him to touch the dirty ground.

Yeosang dives to catch him as his paw slips through my fingers.

Since it's such a short drive, Jongho lets me sit on his lap on the way home and I watch his phone screen while he plays a game against Mingi.

We arrive, and Seonghwa tells me I have to walk cause Jongho is tired like everyone else. I force a smile instead of a pout, and nod trying to be understanding.

I still feel out of it when we walk through our front doors and everyone drops their stuff and takes off their shoes relieved. I sit down, to pry my shoes off my feet too.

Yunho stands above me, waiting for me to do it myself. The shoes don't budge though, and I look up at Yunho with a small pout. He smiles and laughs a little under his breath while he crotches down, and with one small tug he undo's the laces and pulls my shoes off with ease. I stare at him for a moment, amazed, watching him put my shoes up. He lifts me up and onto my feet, patting my head and retreating to our room.

Jongho and Mingi are in the shower, Yunho is in our room, Yeosang is in his, Hongjoong went to change and Seonghwa is somehow and new clothes already and sitting at the kitchen table. I look and my eyes land on Wooyoung and I smile.

"Wooyoungie!" I jump onto him, he makes a 'oof' sound but still laughs, throwing me onto the couch next to him.

"What Sannie bear?"

I lay back, upside down, staring at Wooyoung who is suddenly so tall, "Play with me?"

"Sure bear, what do you want to do?"

I wonder for a second, looking around the room, it's so clean since I haven't regressed in a while, but my toy chest that was a blanket box is next to the tv with blankets folded on top of it instead of inside it.

"Towers."

Wooyoung nods, understanding what I mean, "Okay, but how bout we change out of your gross sweaty clothes first."

I swing my legs around, letting them dangle on the side of the couch.

"Go tell Yunho-hyung to change you."

"Okay," I jump up and run down the hall.

"No running," I hear Seonghwa say all the way from the kitchen, so I walk as fast as I can instead.

I push our bedroom door open, and go to wrap myself around Yunho who's laying on his bed scrolling on his phone.

"Wooyoungie told me to tell you to help me change my clothes."

"Did he?" he lifts an eyebrow and I can't help it but lean in to poke it.

Like a caterpillar, I giggle to myself.

"Well alright," he sits up with me still sitting on his stomach, "you gotta get off me Sannie."

I slide onto his bed, criss-crossed and watch him get up and head to our closet.

I lift my arms waiting for him to turn around.

Yunho smiles, doesn't say a word and lifts my shirt off me, replacing it with a Stitch shirt that's a little too big on me.

I don't notice, that I don't think twice about my body being exposed again. Yunho comments on my cute belly, and I smile cause little me believes everything that comes out of my caregivers mouths.

He gestures me to stand up so I do, I lean on his shoulders while he replaces my pants with small shorts and my very favorite skirt over them.

I can't help it I have to jump and twirl while I'm on the bed to watch the skirt fly around.

Yunho throws my dirty clothes in the hamper, and watches me for a moment admirably, "Okay lets put socks on."

We kept it super cold in the dorm, so my feet were always cold, even though it's because I lose all my socks.

"Sticky socks?" I ask.

"Yes, blue?"

I nod, and he slips them on while I squirm cause I hate my feet being touched. I turn my feet to look at the little heart stickies.

"I wanna show Seonghwa Hyung," I jump up, and I make sure to hug Yunho really tight as a 'thank you'.

"Seonghwa Hyung," I run past Wooyoung and Hongjoong who's changed with wet hair, both on the couch.

"San."

I stop and turn around to look at Hongjoong.

"Seonghwa already said no running. Please listen."

I nod, "Okay sorrys."

"It's okay."

I focus back on my mission, "Seonghwa Hyung, I'm not running but I want to show you my heart stickies still."

"Come show me then pumpkin."

I slide onto the chair next to Seonghwa and put my feet up on his legs, "Look!"

"Oh they are so so cute. And they'll keep you from falling if you forget not to run inside," He says cleverly, poking my feet teasingly.

"Yes, but I will not run in the house anymore."

He chuckles, "Okay, thank you for listening."

I hum, nodding, then turn to skip to the living room.

"Daddy, wanna see my heart stickies?"

Hongjoong looks up from his book, giving me the warmest smile, "Yes, Wooyoung wants to see too."

I climb up on the couch and stretch my legs across Hongjoong's lap, over his now closed book, "See?"

"So cute," Wooyoung states, poking them like Seonghwa did.

"Can we build towers in the kitchen?"

"As long as you both clean up after yourselves," Hongjoong looks at Wooyoung then me.

"Promise hyung," Wooyoung says, already getting the cylinder bucket out of the toy box, "Lets go Sannie bear."

"30 minutes then you need a bath," Seonghwa hums, watching us from the table while we dump the whole bucket out onto the floor.

I nod. I just wanna play, and forget.

So that's what I do.

I don't notice the safety I feel in this room, alone with other men, cause I trust every other man in this house with my life. That's not something I ever thought would happen again.


	6. this is all I'll be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Childhelp Hotline: 1(800).422.4453
> 
> Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING

**TRIGGER WARNING: sex, past abuse, and minors having sex with non minors**

I remember when I used to go to the doctor and my sisters would still come in the room with me. They continued to come into the room with me until I was 17, then they would wait out in the waiting room anticipating the moment I walk back through those doors safety, and still healthy, and alive. Then we would go get lunch and ice cream, cause I've always hated doctors, and my sisters wanted to treat me like I was still 6 until I couldn't take it no more.

When I was 13 and my same doctor I've had since I was 4 asked me if I'm sexually active, I blushed, and my sisters laughed. My voice hasn't dropped, I couldn't talk to girls who weren't my sisters or their friends. Of course I wasn't sexually active.

Turns out abuse counts. And I've been sexually active since I was 5.

Then though, I didn't know that then.

So I shook my head no, embarrassed, even though I already knew what it felt like to have someone inside me.

When I turned 14, my voice was squeaky but dropping, and I laughed when she asked the same question. I couldn't see sex as anything but gross, and disgusting, and I wanted nothing to do with it. I hoped I would never have to have anything to do with it ever again.

And one year went by again. Sang-mi was the only sister consistent with my appointments, so she was always there, sitting a couple feet away from me.

I'm 15, and I know I am sexually active, and since I started I haven't really taken a break besides for going to school and sleeping. I still answered no though, cause I didn't want Sang-mi to have to worry about me getting a girl pregnant.

At 16, I've discovered you can have sex with more than one person at once, and it works, I worried about being left out, but no, no one is left out, even when there's an odd number of people. When my doctor asks if I'm sexually active I still say no, and she asks if I've dated at all. I say yes, even though I haven't been on a date with a single person. I think I'll stick to strangers.

I'm 17 and I'm having my first appointment without my sisters, but all three of them came anyways to sit in the waiting room. This time I ask the doctor why it matters if I'm sexually active, and if it's a bad thing that I'm not. I know that I am, but I don't want to give her any reason to think I'm lying, just in case I decide I want to stay "not" sexually active. She explains that she would have a male doctor come in to ask me questions and decide rather or not he needs to give me a physical. She checks the no box next to the question and tells me she's proud I've been safe, and been waiting for the 'right person'. I don't know how many people I've slept with by then, but it had to be over 40 or 50.

I know when I walk in, 18 years old, she has a little hope in her eyes, I don't know if she's thinking 'i have hope he's found the right person' or 'i hope he's still innocent', and it doesn't matter to me, cause neither question would be given a respectful answer. I've found multiple 'right' people, and some 'decent' people, and some 'not very good but bearable' people, and some 'this has to be their first time' people, and even some 'they might be a sex worker' people. But no one needs to know that. And she doesn't need to know I'm not innocent. When I tell her no she looks relieved, and concerned, she probably thought in that moment I would never find anyone willing to stay, and she was probably right, I've only had sex with one person more than once. I want to tell her my body is enough, I please a lot of men, and sometimes I get pleasure from it too. I want to tell her I'm not a faggot. But none of that is true. So I let her think what ever she wanted, and when I walked out I knew I was never going to go back.

I want to be in charge of my body.

And that's what I'm thinking now, walking up in the dark from a cab, my members at home probably sleeping already. I met up with Sang-hee to go to a party with her co-workers, and just a bunch of people I didn't know and didn't care who I was, cause they saw themselves as bigger than me. That was okay with me. I can't go to random parties in the city anymore, I have to know if there's a chance press will be there, or Atiny will see me leave drunk out of my mind. But this party was at a decent size house, a round-a-bout drive way full of fancy cars and limos, this was a party for upper class citizens. Except they were no cameras or fancy clothes, they were upper class's children, grown children dressed in casual clothes, falling all over the place.

Normal people would've left right then. Sang-hee knows these people from working with their parents, except they're the same age as her & me. So Sang-hee walks right past the men holding onto each other and falling down the front steps. We enter the front doors, which are wide open letting in a chill, but it gets hotter the farther you walk inside. There's so many people that the mass of bodies have created enough heat for these people to be dressed in shorts and tank tops, and crop tops comfortably in the middle of cold night.

I lose sight of Sang-hee in seconds so I wander until I find the kitchen. 

_"We're here, rock-paper-scissors who's gonna be the designated driver?"_

_At 16 this is all that matters, who gets to drink and who has to drive, I am veto-ed since I can't drive yet. I smile happily bounding up the stairs to find the nearest alcohol._

There's bottles, and bottles of hard liquor on the kitchen island. No punch like the parties I'm used to, no solo cups, or paper cups, there's cans and mason jars instead. I can't trust myself with a jar though so I open a can to down, and pick out the next two that I plan on drinking next.

"Hey, you look like you need a drink" a man appears in the empty kitchen, he's also drunk, I can smell it before he approaches.

_"Want a drink?" a older boy approaches minutes after I make it inside, I already have a plastic cup half full still, but his red eyes tell me he wouldn't know the difference._

_So instead I laugh, "sure." I take the already opened drink._

_I hope I'll stay sober enough to not drink this. But probably not._

"Man, you're good," I joke, taking the cup full of questionable red-ish liquid, er liquor(?), yeah I can't drink this.

I give a smile but grab the biggest can of alcohol I see, and hope he doesn't notice as he observes me closely.

"You don't look familiar."

"Is that a bad thing?"

I feel like I've never left this environment, my adrenaline was kicking in, my gears dusted off and shifting into place. Maybe I never lost my touch, maybe I still have it.

_"Do you live on campus? I haven't seen you around here before."_

_"Off campus," I say, I watch him while he looks me up and down._

_"I can barely hear you.... do you want to...go down the hall....there's a room," he's struggling to catch up with his own words, but he's trying, so I'll give him that._

_I take a huge sip of the beer he gave me, and let him take me by the hand._

_He opens the door to someone's dorm I know isn't his cause there's some girl's name on the door in sparkly letters. I don't care though, we won't be long, I'll be back with my friends before they even realized I was gone._

"No. No. It's nice to see an unfamiliar face. I can tell you're not like everyone else here."

I want to laugh, it's so cheesy, and I almost do. I've heard this line hundreds of times, guys always use it, and I can't say anything about it either, cause either way I end up in bed with them by the end of it.

"I'm not exactly from around here. I was invited by a friend."

"Oh? Who?"

I smile up at him, he's taller than Yunho, I have to tilt my head slightly.

"Does it matter?"

He stutters, probably wondering why I'm so confident.

"Just small talk," he mumbles.

"No need," I say with ease, "where can we go?"

_This girl's room had fairy lights. Romantic._

_"So what major are you in?"_

_"We don't have to talk," I let him know, looking around the room. I kick off my shoes._

_"Alright," he grins, his beer breath almost turns me off._

_Nevertheless we waste no time, at this rate I'll get back to the party in a few minutes._

"Up these stairs," he gestures, and I follow him, cause I can tell he doesn't want to hold my hand in front of all these people. I guess he's not drunk enough yet.

"Here, you need it," I hand him the red liquor back.

"Thanks."

We go down the this wide and long hallway until we're far enough that the music sounds slightly muffled, and we the people yelling sound like they're being suffocated.

He turns suddenly, finally grabbing my hand, and pulling me into a room hurriedly.

I don't have much time to look around, but the room is huge, the lights are off, but the lights from the drive way and the moon give us enough light to see what we're doing. For the most part.

He gives me the drink, "your turn."

I watched him drink it, so it must be fine. I take a gulp, forcing myself to swallow. I almost throw up. I have no idea what was in that. I don't have time to worry about it though, cause he's already pulling on my clothes.

The truth is, it doesn't matter if he was trying to drug me. He didn't need to drug me to get me to have sex with him, I would've done it nevertheless. I don't care who he is, what he's like, if he's a good guy, how old he is, I don't care what his name is either. None of it matters. He's just a body.

_My pants are being pulled over my butt when the dorm door opens, two figures and a high pitched angry scream._

_"This is my room! Get out."_

_Big oof. It's the girl, and this is her bed my ass is on._

_"What the fuck?" the guy on top of me looks over, I cover my eyes with my arm as the light is turned on._

_"Get out asshole."_

_"What. The. Fuck."_

_I peer through my fingers. That voice sounds so familiar._

_"What the actual fuck."_

_No. Oh nononono._

"God you are so hot," the man says, pushing me up against the wall, kissing me intensively, I snap out of it and kiss him back.

I'm a teenager again.

"I really hope you're of age."

I scoff, "Of course I am. Asshole."

This time I'm not lying. I would've answered the same way if I was 15 though, so I couldn't blame any doubt.

"Okay, no need to get defensive pretty boy."

"Nicknames? Can you just stay quiet. There's no need for talking."

"Damn I like you."

"Just fuck me already." And I'm dead serious, I'm not trying to tease him or turn him on. I could care less if he's getting any enjoyment from this. I just needed him to fuck me.

_"Choi San. What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Soo-Ah screams, pulling the guy on top of me so hard he loses balance trying to stand._

_She turns to him, "He's 16 asshole."_

_"I am not--" sixteen, I try but my mouth isn't working, Soo-Ah flashes me a glare. I burp up the taste of vodka. When did I drink that?_

_"Chill. I didn't know. I didn't know I swear. He said he went to college here," he throws his hands up in a way to say 'don't hurt me i'm innocent'._

_When Soo-Ah looks back at me he hurriedly pulls his pants up and rushes out of the room._

_"Leave," the girl, who's bed I'm still on, shouts._

_"I'm so sorry," Soo-Ah apologizes and I laugh, I can't help it I just burst out laughing while struggling to button my pants back up._

The bed is tapping the wall, lightly, then harder, then lightly, then repeat. Until this man gets tired, or until I get tired, cause I'm not sticking around much longer.

I try to push him up. This is an uncomfortable position I think.

"You can't just leave mid-way."

"I'm just trying to adjust. Shut up."

"My bad," lifts his body up and waits then we're going at it again.

_Soo-Ah looks at me with pure disgust and hate that it makes me freeze. Just freeze. Cause my older sister just caught me almost having sex with a guy that's probably older than her in the room she was bringing some girl to have sex with in said girl's actual room. I'm standing with, pulling my shirt back on, giving up on the button. And all I see in her face is disgust._

_She approaches and buttons my pants for me, then grabbing my wrist pulling me out, apologizing repeatedly to the girl._

_"We're you actually going to have sex with that guy?"_

_"Uh. yes?"_

_She looks at me like she wants to beat me._

_"You're sixteen, San. You can't legally consent to sex."_

_"So what? You're doing the same thing."_

_"I'm an adult," she looks betrayed in a way, "don't act like that San. You're a child."_

_"I'm fucking not. You're just mad-mad I cock-*giggle* blocked you." She's still dragging me through the crowd. These people must be used to this cause not one person looked our way. The music was too loud, most likely._

_"You're fucking drunk San, he was trying to take advantage of you."_

_"Me?" I laugh this time, "What makes you think I wasn't taking advantage of him."_

_We get out in the hallway, the door closes and the music muffles._

_"You. Are. A. Child."_

_"I'm not though. I'm not sweet and innocent. I'm not your baby any more Noona. I like having sex, or making love, or what? What do you want me to call it?"_

_"It doesn't matter. Sannie," she drops her tone, "You can't give consent."_

_"I can. And I have. I've had sex with more guys then you, Sang-mi, and Sang-hee combined."_

_"You're 16 that's not possible."_

_"Don't act stupid," I laugh in her face, "You seen the walls. You know I'm a whore. A man whore. What ever you want to call me."_

_"Shut up. We're going home," she tightens her grip on my wrist and drags me out of the building._

_I'm just glad it wasn't Sang-hee._

"You were so good."

"What did I say about talking?"

He laughs, "You're funny. You know?"

I sigh, sitting up, "I gotta go."

"Now?" He sits up watching me as I change back into my clothes, "Can I get your number?"

I slip my shoes back on, opening the door, then looking back at him. He waits for an answer.

"No."

I shut the door, and go to find Sang-hee. The steps are swirling. Yeah, I think, smiling, there was definitely something put in that drink.


	7. the person i look up to most

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Childhelp Hotline: 1(800).422.4453
> 
> Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673

"God..o-...my...-od..th-..door....where.....light....is..heavy-"

I'm confused, and I feel so heavy, but I hear my sister's voice in a distance and it keeps me from panicking that I can't see straight. I can sense that she's trying to stay quiet as she opens up a door, and where ever we are gets brighter. I try to cover my face from the light but I end up hitting myself hard in the face instead.

"Ow," I can hear myself say.

"Shhh...be....Sannie."

Be Sannie? I laugh, and I feel a hand over my mouth.

"I'm Sssannnnn."

My body feels like an anchor. I reach for the ground, it feels so far away.

"S...stop."

 _I'm just-_ "trying..." _to reach the ground,_ I try to say. 

OH. I am way too drunk. I should not be this drunk, I ponder.

My body is getting so close, I just have to reach a little more and- my body thuds against the ground. I know it's bruising as I put my hands on the cold wood floor, I press my cheek against the ground and breathe deeply. I am sweating. 

"Here."

Her voice pounds my ear drums, I squint my eyes, "Stop."

My own voice sounds louder than hers.

"Shhh," her voice is suddenly in my ear, she's close to me but my eyes haven't adjusted to the light yet, "Drink. This."

I push the cup back towards her, rubbing me eyes until I can see. We're at the dorm. How did we get here?

"I carried you into a cab. You need to eat more Sannie."

Oh, I said that out loud. Her words aren't disappearing anymore, I can focus on them.

I'm sitting up now, my hands are shaky so when I try and hold the glass Sang-hee holds the bottom and cups her hand under my chin as I drink what I can and let the rest fall down my face.

"San! Just tell me you're done," she tsked, and I expect her to be angry, but she's not, she's in her mothering mode instead.

"Can you stand up?"

I just blankly stare at her.

"Let's at least get you to the couch."

"Hey? Is everything okay?"

That's not Sang-hee's voice, I look around, my eyes landing on Yunho and Mingi.

"Hi Hyungs." Mingi's not my hyung; I have to remind myself; but it's too late to correct myself so I just let him have it this time.

"Me and San went to hang out with old friends."

"They were-" she covers my mouth, "He got carried away with drinking."

Yunho disappears, and Mingi approaches and crouches down, "I can tell. He called me hyung," he smiles smoothing my hair back, "Should I get Hongjoong?"

"No," I say a little too pleading, Sang-hee gives me a weird look.

Sang-hee is scarier than Hongjoong.

Mingi looks at Sang-hee then back at me, "Hongjoong Hyung won't be mad he'll probably just call tomorrow's practice off. He'll be awake in a hour anyways."

That means it's 5am. From the time I left that man in that bedroom which was around 12 or maybe 1. That means for 4 to 5 hours I have no idea where I was or what I did.

That makes me smile.

"I'll get him," Mingi says, and I don't have time to protest, Yunho is shoving pills in my face, and Sang-hee's giving me the glass of water back.

"Let's get you to the couch."

"I don't feel good," I admit bringing my knees to my chest as my body catches up with me, processing everything I put in my body in the last 12 hours.

Sang-hee, brings a cover over, "Cold or warm?"

"Cold."

She pulls the blanket over me, then sits down careful not to disturb me so she's gentle.

I feel 10 again. I'm having a sick day. My sisters would take turns. Sang-hee she was tough, she didn't wear nail polish or watched cartoons ever and she hated Disney movies. She liked dark clothes, and dark shows about the supernatural and fantasies with drama and sex and action. But when she would stay home with me, she would cook my favorite chicken noodle soap, bare Disney movie marathons and kid cartoons, and she would even paint my nails whatever color I wanted, even if she would always suggest black first, and I always wanted bright reds, pinks, and yellow.

"Sannie? Are you okay?" Hongjoong enters the room messy bed head still, bowing slightly to Sang-hee before fully focusing on me, while trying to calm his hair.

Men didn't like to be in their worst states in front of my sisters. They were just too pretty. That makes me smile again.

I shrug, "I feel icky, and a bit sick."

"Okay. We'll take the day off," Hongjoong as quickly as he got there left to go call the manager.

"Mingi comes back in, our plastic trash can from the bathroom emptied with a grocery bag in it.

"Just in case," he says as he sits it down in front of me on the ground.

I feel nauseous and it dawns on me that I really might have drugs in my system right now. I look at Sang-hee on the verge of tears, because I can't lie I'm a little scared.

"San," she says softly, "come here."

She opens her arms and I don't hesitate, she moves turning sideways, with her feet up on our coffee table, her arms loosely wrapped around me. My head rests against her chest, which is like pillows, I'm more relaxed but still overstimulated with trying to process and remember everything that happened last night.

I had sex. Without protection. With an unknown man, unknown age, unknown medically history.

"Noona," I whisper, Yunho and Mingi are sitting in one the big bean bags, on their phones, but they both perk up to listen closely, "I might want to go to the doctor."

And that. That scares me. I hate the doctor, but usually I'm careful, I'm usually not this careless, but I was so ready, I just wanted it to feel good.

It was disappointing though, he wasn't even that good.

Which for some reason makes me feel awful.

"Do you really feel that bad baby?" she only calls me baby if she's worried about me.

I nod, though that's not the truth, and I remember I'm not supposed to lie, "well it's not just that," I look up to her, and she observes my face, then hers drop, and my heart drops at the same time.

Suddenly she's so serious, but she doesn't move, she just stares at me, "You didn't."

Yunho and Mingi are tuned in now, phones down, looking at us. Hongjoong re-enters just then.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. I haven't been around people that don't know me in so long and I just wanted to take advantage of that. I didn't mean to-well- no- actually I meant to- but I didn't know- I didn't."

"Shh," Sang-hee can tell I'm panicking so she forces herself to look softer, even when I know she's furious, "Do you know who? How long?"

"I never know who noona, you know that. And it wasn't long, maybe 10 minutes?"

"10 minutes can cause a lot of problems," she looks up at the 3 members in the living room with us, "Um." she thinks but she doesn't know what to say, I can tell.

"I'm sorry, um what are we missing?" Hongjoong finally speaks up.

I look at him, then to noona.

She sighs, she always has to be the one, "San did _it_ with someone at the party."

Hongjoong's relaxed and worried face drops, mouth opens, then shuts, then opens again, "What do you mean by _it_?"

"Exactly how it sounds."

Yunho looks between the three of us then glances at Mingi, then stares at me, "San? That's on the contact."

I nod, "I know. But this was my free time, and he didn't know who I was. He was too drunk and no one saw me or recognized me."

"I hope you're right." Hongjoong says sharply, and I can tell I'm in big big trouble.

"It'll be okay. I know everyone at the party. I can assure you no one knew who San was."

Mingi sighs in relief, "Hyung," he gets Hongjoong's attention, he's still staring at me, "It's okay. We don't have to worry about that now."

Hongjoong looks at me then to Sang-hee.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes, "I left him alone for 20 minutes. I shouldn't have."

"I'm sorry too." He says, and he leaves the living room.

I look at Yunho a little scared.

"It's okay Sannie. He's not mad just frustrated. This could affect all of us, you know."

And I can't take it, cause Yunho is right. My dumb 10 minute mistake could take away 7 other people's careers along with mine.

I look back at Sang-hee, "I'm s-ssorryyy."

Her face breaks as the first tears roll down my face. I fucking hate being sensitive, someone take it. It's free. I left it had the end of my drive way a long time ago but no one wanted to take it. I can't blame them.

"Hey, hey, it'll be okay I'll make sure," she wraps her arms around me, hugging my head to her chest as my body cries with me.

She looks up at Yunho and Mingi, "Shiber?" she asks, and I can hear one of them jump up.

Hongjoong is the one that enters with Shiber in hand, sad look on his face. Sang-hee lets go, and Hongjoong sits next to us.

"I didn't mean to sound harsh Sannie. I'm sorry," he hands me Shiber and I hug him immediately, "I overthink you know that. It's not your fault."

That's all I need to hear, 'it's not your fault'. Its. Not. Your. Fault. itsnotyourfault.

But it is. This time. It is.


	8. Choi(s)

**Sang-mi:** 23  
Looks older than she is. Is the oldest Choi sibling and also the shortest.  
Chinese Zodiac: the ox

Has a daughter and son. Daughter is 7 and son is 3. Married. Had her daughter in highschool at 16 years old. 

  
  
Sang-hee: 23  
Looks her age. Is 17 minutes younger than Sang-mi. Wears dark and masculine clothes and is in dance school.

Chinese Zodiac: the ox

  
  
Soo-ah: 22  
The youngest Choi daughter. Currently in college, the tallest out of the Choi siblings. Very intimidating but looks sweet from a distance.

Chinese Zodiac: Tiger


	9. repeat it to yourself like a wish

emptying out of my mother's belly  
was my first act of disappearance  
learning to shrink for the family  
who likes their kids invisible  
was the second  
the art of being empty  
is simple  
believe them when they say  
you are nothing  
repeat it to yourself  
like a wish  
 _i am nothing_  
 _i am nothing_  
 _i am nothing_  
so often   
the only reason you know   
you're still alive is from the  
heaving of your chest

_-the art of being empty-_   
  
  
  


**_Trigger Warning:_ ** **slight description of v0mitting**

I was asleep for a half hour maybe, before I woke feeling sick again. I was laying spread across the couch, Shiber in my arms and a blanket over my legs, a trash can by my head on the ground. I move so my head is leaning off the edge towards the can. There's the sound of people moving around, but I ignore it as I try my best not to be sick.

I realize I'm not in the best position to make it in the trash can so I slowly sit up. I can't go too slow though, cause I can feel it coming up, but I am physically incapable of moving fast.

I lean my body against the arm rest, leaning over slowly to grab the can and pull it up in front of me and between my legs. I push Shiber aside, I focus on the noises coming from the kitchen and the chatting instead of my own horrible noises I make as I feel everything come up.

All I can think is, I was for sure roofied. Even if I wanted to stop or not go through with having sex with that stranger, he would've made sure I didn't have a choice. Good thing, I always want sex. I know I should feel violated, but I didn't do anything I didn't want to. He probably woke up knowing he accidentally took a drink of his own roofied drink, and wasted drugs on me, when I would've gotten into that bed even if I didn't drink anything.

"San baby?" Sang-hee was next to me, I didn't even notice her enter the living room.

She was crunched down, one hand holding a glass of water and a rag, the other hand pushing back the hair in my face. Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Yunho are in the living room now too, turning down the tv I didn't even realize was on, Seonghwa takes the trash can, he can handle stuff like puke, and Yunho sitting on the edge of the coffee table watching me.

Sang-hee hesitates to wipe my mouth herself, and instead just hands me the rag. I want to give it back to her. I want to tell her I don't want to take care of myself, I deserve feeling awful, I deserve to stay gross. This is who I always been, even though I tried to convince myself I've changed.

She waits patiently, so I wipe my mouth, Sang-hee isn't a patient person so I must not look that great.

"You need to eat something," Yunho says, I almost forgot he was there.

"You need greasy food to soak up that alcohol. We made bacon," Sang-hee adds.

I don't want to move but they'll sit there until I do, so I force myself up.  
  
  


"We made waffles out of the waffle maker Yeosang bought, they're huge," Wooyoung can't wait until we're sitting down to tell us, he shows me the plate.

"We also have fruit to put on top," Mingi added.

Hongjoong is making me a plate before Sang-hee can herself, so Sang-hee instead gets me juice from the fridge, a juice box, more convenient.

I prop myself up on the chair, Shiber in my lap, I stare at the waffle, two pieces of bacon, and a small bowl of raspberries Hongjoong puts in front of me. Sang-hee sets down the juice box next to the bowl.

"I have work in 40 minutes, I have to go home and change. I'll come by after work okay?" She wraps her arms around my neck, kissing my head, "Call if you need anything. I can pick up dinner for everyone too, text me what you want later. Love you Sannie."

Everyone thanks her, and bows, she's older than Hongjoong & Seonghwa by 2 years, meaning she's the elder when she comes over, and feels responsible to not only take care of me but all the members too. That's Sang-mi's fault, rubbing her motherly nature on her while growing up.

The door closes and I look back at my plate of food.

"Do you want syrup?" Seonghwa asks.

Before I can nod Seonghwa is already pouring the syrup on my plate. I pick up my fork but Wooyoung, who is sitting next to me, picks up the knife when I stare at it too long.

I don't think much about it as I take smaller bites than he's trying to give me. I'm quickly losing my appetite as my stomach screams at me. I carefully and slowly get up as everyone is in mid conversation and still eating.

"Are you done San?" Seonghwa asks, my plate not even half gone.

I shake my head, but I keep walking a little faster towards the couch where the trash can is.

"Once you're finished you can watch tv," Hongjoong says, and I know it's a small warning and he must think I have slipped into little space.

If I get sick I truly might.

**_Trigger Warning_ **

I collapse on the floor and pull the trash can towards me. I hear chairs being pushed back and hurried footsteps. I'm too focused on the sound of my own vomit, and the way it comes out of my nose and burns my throat and nostrils. Chunks of food I just ate and the smell of alcohol is all I can focus on.

**_Trigger Warning_ **

I have to calm myself down cause the terrible feeling of being in trouble erupts inside me and I'm on the brink of a meltdown. And I'm also slipping because of the sting in my eyes and nose and throat. I am in pain even though my stomach feels 110% better. I can shake the feeling, or the emotions.

_I am allowed to feel sick. I am allowed to be sick. It is natural and I can not help it._

"Baby," Seonghwa let's this one word slip, knowing he can see the pain on my face.

Hongjoong kneels next to me, wet rag in hand. I take it before he can try and help. Yunho is behind me rubbing my back. As sudden as my emotions react is simultaneously sudden to me as it is to everyone else.

My throat still burns and my body pleads to ask for water. But my emotions are stronger than my needs.

"Please don't touch me," I say quietly cause it burns while I talk, "I'm sorry don't touch me please."

I fight the irrational anger of them not immediately reacting as I want them too. I can not get upset right now, they are trying their best to help me.

I just want my noonas.

"We can call them," Yunho says, I realize I have talked out-loud.

_I am allowed to need. I am allowed to want. I am allowed to have comfort from the people I choose._

I nod, the embarrassment heating up my face.

"Can I rub your back?" Wooyoung asks, taking the place of Hongjoong.

I nod this time, Wooyoung's intentions are innocent.

As soon as his hand meets my back my emotions become unbearable. I involuntarily let the tears run down my face.

"What's wrong Sannie?"

"It burns," I state.

"What does? Do you want water?"

I nod cause it hurts to talk too much.

"Soo-ah Noona is coming," Hongjoong says while Yeosang is handing me water and I'm leaning into Wooyoung's chest relieved, even though I know I smell bad. Jongho is thankfully getting rid of the evidence I was even sick, and Mingi is turning on Tangled (my favorite disney princess movie).

I repeat inside my head again, _I am allowed to feel sick. I am allowed to be sick. It is natural and I can not help it. I am allowed to need. I am allowed to want. I am allowed to have comfort from the people I choose._


	10. my body aches

the good thing about feeling in extremes is  
when i love i give them wings  
but perhaps that isn't  
such a good thing   
you should see me  
when my heart is broken  
i don't grieve  
i shatter  
  
  


"First off why is it so bright in here," I can hear Soo-ah's soft voice echo down the hall from the front door. The movie finished and now I'm watching Mingi, Jongho, Yunho, and Wooyoung play a racing video game. On a normal non-shitty day I would've been off the couch going to hug my youngest older sister, but I feel if I move I may be sick again, "Where's my baby brother?"

I hear Seonghwa laugh and make a comment. I shake my head at her but smile through the embarrassment.

She's entering the living room and Yeosang nudges Jongho as Hongjoong gives the four of them a look for not turning the game off immediately, after he's asked 5 times now. Yunho changes the channel while Wooyoung and Mingi aren't paying any attention.

"Hey!"

Hongjoong leans forward and smacks the back of his head, in which he finally turns around and sees Soo-ah.

"Ah Sannie's Noona. How are you noona?" he jumps up taking a bag from her giving a teasing look to Hongjoong as in to say, 'see I'm good' only to be dragged down by the bag unexpectedly being heavier than he thought it would be.

"I'm good. Thank You Wooyoung-ah." she smiles as he struggles.

"What's with all the bags?" I ask.

"I brought candles, movies, card games and board games. I brought myself an extra set of clothes just in case, and lots of kimchi, miso soup, and ramen, which is in Wooyoung's bag," she finishes off laughing.

"Don't you have classes?"

"No, it started snowing, so they should call off tomorrow."

I sit up more smiling excitingly, "Does that mean we can have a sleep over?"

Soo-ah looks at me like I am the most admirable thing in this room, "Of course if that's okay with Hongjoong."

"Of course it's okay with me."

"You can take my bed Noona," Yunho offers since me and him are roommates.

"No need Yunho-ah, but thank you for your kind offer. I will just bunk with Sannie for the night, he won't mind, will you dongsaeng?"

I shake my head.

"So what shall we do first?"  
  
  


**Trigger Warning: v0mit**

So it turns out ramen wasn't a great first choice, the broth was supposed to help but now chucks of noodles and veggies were coming back up.

"San this isn't a normal hang over. Did you take anything at the party?"

I'm nauseous, and tired as I lean against the nasty toilet seat. I'm shaking cause I'm cold but I'm sweating.

"There was definitely something in that drink that guy gave me."

Soo-ah looks at me, waits for me to continue. I take a deep breath. Too deep. I'm throwing up again.

Yunho is bringing in a blanket for me as I been complaining about being cold, "I don't know his name noona."

"Where was Unnie?" I can hear the anger in her voice.

_It's not my fault. It's not my fault._

Hongjoong takes the forehead thermometer and sticks it against the top of my head.

"You don't have a fever," he states.

"Do you want shiber?" Jongho asks, he's leaning against the door frame, watching over me from a distance. I shake my head, even though I'm aching to hug Shiber and just feel better with him against my chest.

"I don't know where Sang-hee was. She was downstairs. I didn't think he would do anything cause I wanted to first."

"Did you use protection?"

I look up at her blankly. I don't remember.

"San," she sighs, a hand through her ponytail, "I'm gonna go call Unnie."

"Noona," I call after her, "Don't be mad at her."

"It's too late for that Sannie," Hongjoong says, pulling over a step stool to sit next to me, already rubbing my back.

"I'm okay now," I say, wiping my mouth with the rag Seonghwa brought for me.

"Want to move to the living room."

"Yeah. But I don't want to physically move yet."

"Come on, I'll carry you," Jongho volunteers.

Wooyoung and Yeosang are making the couch into a temporary bed for me. Mingi entering as me and Jongho are, with a pile of stuffed animals, Shiber on top. Wooyoung grabs Shiber as Mingi dumps the pile of stuffed animals on the couch. Seonghwa is putting on Elf, another one of my favorite movies.

"Thank you guys," I feel emotional suddenly, "I'm sorry I should have taken care of myself better."

"Unnie should have been watching you," Soo-ah is coming back in from the kitchen, bringing in a glass of water.

"I'm old enough to watch over myself." I don't want Sang-hee to be in trouble with Sang-mi, which I'm sure Soo-ah already called her to snitch.

"I know San, but we're your noonas, it's part of our job to keep you safe," I open my mouth, she brings up one finger, "Don't. Argue."

I nod, bowing in my sitting position on the couch as an apology.  
  
  


I wake up in someone's arms, I look up to see Wooyoung, I'm on top of him, and he's practically cradling me. There's whispered arguing, I look around trying to take in my surroundings.

Yeosang, Jongho, Mingi, and Yunho are asleep on the floor. Seonghwa and Hongjoong are talking with Soo-ah and Sang-hee. I wonder when Sang-hee got here.

"We should take him to the doctor, he could have caught something." (Hongjoong)

"Now San is safe when it comes to sex, we have to trust him." (Sang-hee)

"No. No that's gone right now. We have to guarantee his health, as his noonas and hyungs." (Soo-ah)

"I understand you're worried but he was fine-" (Sang-hee)

"How do you know? Where were you?" (Soo-ah)

"San is 21 years old." (Sang-hee)

"He's still our younger brother." (Soo-ah)

"So what? He's old enough to make his own decisions." (Sang-hee)

"Okay but sometimes he doesn't make the best decisions. And you know that. His trauma makes him think differently." (Soo-ah)

I don't like that they're talking about me like I'm not in the same room. I feel 12 again. 15 again when I really started getting into sex again. I feel vulnerable and sad they can't trust me, knowing they have every right to not trust me. I try to go back to sleep. I'll be better by morning, these drugs don't last forever.

But I can't just leave them like that. I'll have to give them a proper apology tomorrow. I'm too tired now. Too drained. All that can go through my head is.

_Sorry.I'msorry.Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry._

Digging itself into my chest, like a bullet. I'll take it out tomorrow. Everything will be okay tomorrow.


	11. you made me believe I was too hard to love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our knees   
> Pried open  
> By cousins  
> And uncles  
> And men  
> Our bodies touched  
> By all the wrong people  
> That even in a bed full of safety  
> We are afraid.

When I wake up, physically I feel better, but the emotional toll has taken it's hit and honestly if anyone talked or touched me at all today I would probably cry. And over all I knew no matter what happened today, it was going to end and begin in tears.

The first thing I did when I got off the couch, was go brush my teeth, my mouth tasted horrible, I was ready to rinse it out.

"Wow brushing your teeth without being told? I'm impressed," Jongho is leaning against the doorway watching me carefully.

I roll my eyes as I refocus on brushing my teeth.

"Proud of you Sannie."

Ah there goes the tears, I listen to Jongho walk away. Thankful he doesn't see me before he leaves. I shut the door as the thoughts reoccur. Proud of me? Proud of me for what? What's there to be proud of? Do they not see how disgusting I am?

There's a knock on the door, "You okay in there?"

"Y-eah. Yeah!"

I want to be held. But I need to be strong. They have already been taking care of me for the past 24 hours or more. I can do this, I can take care of myself. Despite every bit of my being not wanting to do anything but lay on this floor.

I breathe in, out, in, out, in, and out, wipe my face, and fan my eyes. I stare into the mirror, my eyes aren't red. I don't look like I just cried so I rinse my toothbrush and open the door. Yeosang is standing at the door.

"I'm gonna make breakfast, are you up for it?"

I nod, "Yeah I'm feeling better."

I don't know why I'm lying. I'm not supposed to do that. I know I'm not supposed to do that, but I can't help it. I am still not used to the feeling of people actually wanting to help, instead of acting and grooming to get closer to me.

"Yeosang hyung."

"Yeah?" he stops, waits patiently like I'm about to tell him something important.

"Breakfast is ready," Jongho calls.

I decide it can wait.

"Nevermind."

He shrugs me off still giving me a smile and pulling me along to the kitchen, where we are greeted with an all American breakfast. We done this before but we didn't get to cook everything all the way and to be honest it was kind of a disaster. So smelling the cooked bacon and pancakes was a little bit exciting, and I decide I can push my problems a little farther back, just for now. I can deal with them after I eat.

"You feeling better San?" Hongjoong asks, and instead of replying I give a grunt and steal a piece of bacon from Wooyoung's plate.

Technically I am not answering, so technically I am not lying. I reassure myself this as Yunho hands me a glass of orange juice (with pulp). I thank him and take a seat between Jongho and Mingi. Seonghwa takes the seat across from me and Hongjoong sits across from Wooyoung, whos next to Jongho. Leaving Yunho and Yeosang to sit on the end by Seonghwa or between him and Hongjoong.

This set up changes daily, but I always enjoy my spot in the middle on the side where we are facing the kitchen, so I can watch as everyone moves around to get their coffee and food. I like being aware of everything around me. Plus, both doors are in my sight so if something horrible happens I know where to run. My body is always in overdrive, always waiting, observing, thinking nonstop; 'how can I get out'. My body is always prepared for something bad to happen. I've learned to live with it.  
  
  
  


Learning about your childhood trauma, how it affected you, what healthy behaviors and coping skills are, and implementing change is like pulling at a piece of yarn of a knitted sweater and then using that to create a new and better sweater but like... for the rest of your life. It's a never ending sweater and a never ending over sized better sweater.

This. This probably doesn't make sense. It took me a while to understand it myself. My therapist is the one that gave me this metaphor, but I am more of a visual person. So I knit. And knit. And knit. But I don't actually make anything, I only knit to watch it be pulled apart. The members don't question me, don't question what I do cause I usually have a purpose for things. I like being in control, and I can be in control when I knit. It helps when I'm sad, and when I'm angry. I pull and pull and cry into the obnoxiously long scarf. It is comforting, even if it doesn't seem like it.

I been staring at my long ass scarf for sometime now. I do not have the energy to pick it up. I don't have the energy to really do anything at this moment.

My phone rings and I answer instinctively, "Hello?"

_"Hey Sannie it's your noona. How are you feeling?"_

Ahh, Sang-mi.

"Better."

_"Good I'm glad. So do you want me to come by? I can bring you some black-bean stew. Jeonghoon has the kids, I'll take you for coffee, my treat of course."_

"Just coffee is fine, I just ate with the guys."

_"Okay I'll be there in a hour."_

"Okay. Love you."

_"Love you too."_

I changed into some grey/black plaid pants, black belt, with black boots, then a black crop top, and a black jean jacket over it. I stared at myself in the mirror for a good 20 minutes.

"Where are you going?" Seonghwa asks, probably just passing by before seeing me all dressed up.

"Sang-mi noona is coming to pick me up."

"Oh, that'll be nice. Have fun. Tell her I said hi."

"Will do. Thanks hyung."

I look back at the mirror. Maybe I should change? Seonghwa didn't comment on my outfit, maybe it looks bad. Maybe there's too much black. Do I look like a depressed teenager? I mean probably but the real question is do I look good. Do I look okay?

I check myself out at all angles in the mirror, picking out every single flaw.

"You look great hyung," Wooyoung is at the door now, "It goes very well together."

"Does it?"

Oh my constant need for reassurance.

"Yes. I promise."

The door bell rings. It must be Sang-mi.

Wooyoung follows behind me, the anxiety prickling my skin on my neck. _He is too close. He is going to grab me. I have to turn around._

I speed up to open the door. Sang-mi comes in and bows to the boys in the living room which is pretty much everybody except for Wooyoung who is next to me.

"I love that outfit Sannie," Yunho calls.

"Thank you."

"Ready to go?"

I nod, waving to the guys and giving then finger hearts as I follow Sang-mi out the door.  
  
  


"I heard about Sang-hee and Soo-ah's fight. Did you hear it?" We're sitting in the corner of the cafe, already have ordered.

"No I was asleep but Hongjoong told me about it."

All this lying isn't good for me.

"I talked to them and they've made up. You know how they are."

I nod. I should've sent the apologies out this morning. I forgot.

"I'm not gonna lie I was pretty angry with Sang-hee too."

"I'm old enough to make my own decisions."

"I'm not saying you're not. But no one is able to make decisions while under the influence. Even me."

I sit up more, leaning into the table so I can talk more quieter, "I feel awful noona."

"It's not your fault."

"No I mean. I picked out who I wanted to bang, I guess he thought I was gonna say no cause he drugged me, but I didn't say no noona. I wanted to. I really really wanted to. And so I did. Nothing is wrong with having sex noona, but why do I still feel so disgusting."

"He drugged you baby, if there was a point at all where you wanted to stop he wouldn't have taken that as an answer. You have every right to feel however way you feel."

I nod. I know she's right. But what I really want to say is, I thought it would help me. I thought if I had sex again it would reset my terrible mood lately and remind myself of who I am. That I exist. That I'm still here. Still present.


	12. midweek sessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: csa

**_Trigger Warning:_ ** **csa**

The therapist places  
The doll in front of me  
It is the size of kids  
Your uncles like touching  
 _point to where his hands were_  
I point to the spot  
Between its legs the one  
He fingered out of me  
Like a confession  
 _how're you feeling_  
I pull the lump  
In my throat out  
With my teeth  
And say _fine_  
 _numb really._  
  
  
  
  
  


I used to pray when I was a kid. I used to pray to get cancer or get into a car accident on the way home from school where everybody survives except me. I used to beg god to kill me, to give me a disease instead of some innocent kid. I used to pray before bed that I wouldn't wake up in the morning. Obviously none of it worked, and nothing happened. My family wasn't really religious but we went to church a few times around the holidays.

I realize now all of this is rooted through to my trauma. It gets overwhelming, too much, and my body & mind get heavy and I don't want to deal with anything anymore. I am a completely different person then I should have been. But I guess I never really had a sense of who I was supposed to be, cause every time I would think I found myself, someone else would use me. And the layers of trauma would change me, and it'll be like my personality shifts a little bit, and my walls would get a little bit higher.

It all builds up inside me, this feeling has nowhere to go. I want it out before it burns me from the inside out. They say I'm a survivor but that makes it seem like I've made it through the abuse already. I'm dealing with still, it's not past tense. I'm still surviving. And it's too much.  
  
  


"You are not a baby for melting down because of over stimulation. You are not immature or 'throwing a tantrum'. The discomfort and pain and fear you feel is real and valid, and shouldn't be dismissed as silly or unimportant. Especially by people who don't understand."

She says this as I am sitting on the floor instead of the couch behind me, and rolling a squishy stress toy around on the ground.

"Sometimes I want to tell them every fucked up thing that's happened to me."

"You want to tell who? Your members?"

I nod.

"Is there something specific you want to tell them?"

I think for a moment, watching the squishy stress ball go flat then back into its shape when I release the pressure.

I want to tell them I lost my virginity when I was 5. I feel like that will tell them enough.

Instead I shrug.

"But you feel like you have something you willingly want to share?"

I nod.

"Is there something holding you back?"

I shrug.

"Are you afraid how they'll react?"

"It's fucked up. What I've been through-- everything I've been through is fucked up. I can't imagine another child going through what I went through, but when I think about it as myself, thinking back on my child self who actually have been through this unimaginable hurt-- I feel- I feel like it's not enough to complain about."

It's startling how I can not determine what is hatred and what is love. Even if it's blatant. Someone telling me to my face 'I don't care about you' and finished with 'don't take it that too hard'. I am confused and I think, well they must love me so much, that they think they can joke about something like that and know I won't take it seriously.

Maybe that's why I'm so sensitive now.

"That's normal to think. Have anyone used the phrase 'other children have it worse than you'?"

It's like a light bulb 'ah-ha' moment, "Yes."

I remember being 7 coming home from my uncles. I cried and screamed all night until my parents came and got me around 2 in the morning. Uncle wouldn't stop touching me, but I was used to that. What I wasn't used to was the pain I felt after he put himself inside me, he was too rough, too strong, and it hurt too badly. It was an ongoing burning sensation for hours until I just couldn't take it anymore I screamed and scratched him badly to get him off, that's when he called my parents and told them I was misbehaving. On the way home they kept telling me I was lucky to have a Uncle that was so forgiving, and I was ungrateful and didn't know how good I had it compared to other kids. Then when we got home, I was spanked and sent to bed without any goodnight kisses.

"As a child you had no choice but to accept it, because arguing might not have been survivable for you. But you never should compare yourself to kids who might've had it worse. You all were children. All children deserve to be loved. And believed."

I promised myself I would never fight back again. They thought I was misbehaving for being put to bed a hour earlier than usual and without a bedtime story. They didn't know how much pain I was in, and that they made it worse. But there was nothing I could do.

Adults never believe kids.

They don't see a reason to. Because kids lie, make fibs to sound grown up or cool. I didn't want to feel grown up, I just wanted to be a kid. 


End file.
